Who Wants to Eat in the World's Smallest Restaurant? Not Me

Part of the joy of eating out is observing other people and being part of a happy crowd.
On Friday in Waterloo, London, there will be an attempt to set a new record for the world's smallest restaurant. It will seat either two or four in a space that's 102cm by 235cm. It might set some other records, too. Hardest restaurant to get into. Dining experience most like eating in a prison cell. Lunch most beset by wondering what the rest of the world is doing, and if it's having a good time without you.For as long as silly season exists, so will this kind of summer stunt. With the proceeds going to charity, it's not doing any harm. It's also not the only teeny restaurant on Earth. If close quarters or extreme exclusivity - or both - grab you as an appetite-sharpener, you'll be disappointed that Rachel Khoo's Little Paris Kitchen home restaurant, which seated two, is no longer operational. You might find solace at Solo Per Due or Restaurant Kuappi or, if you're willing to spend enough to have it to yourself, at one of the chef's tables, with dedicated staff, that proliferate at hospitality's higher end. But what, really, is the point? If you don't like other people, stay in. If you don't like other people or cooking, stay in and hire a chef. Or get fish and chips.In my experience there's something odd, and pressurised, about being the only customers in a restaurant made for two, a bit like staying at a B&B with only one room, or accidentally waking up at Downton Abbey and feeling guilty about the servants. On holiday in Murcia we ate some really good food in a really unnerving alcove. It was, effectively, a restaurant for two, kept aside for the English pair hardwired to eat early. It could have been bliss, but there's nothing relaxing about being the sole reason for your host's hard work - and when the locals arrived, we could hear them having a lovely time just round the corner, in the dining room. Unless there are more than four of you, eating out in private means you lose the joy of observing other people, and of being part of a happy crowd.There's more than one way to eat in isolation, though, and I could sit at a table for one all day long. It's an occupational hazard that's actually a source of peace and diversion. The opportunities for eavesdropping are excellent, you get a proper look at the food, and if you want to pretend to be a spy, knock yourself out - some people will already be thinking you're odd. The one thing I don't understand is this: a restaurant full of tables for one. If no one's talking to each other, there's nothing to listen to. During a clutch of recent restaurant visits, from Michelin three-stars to a curry house, I've seen lone diners, happy as Larry, in six of the 10. Might you have been one of them, or would you rather have the whole place - small as it may be - shared between your table of two?Lower Marsh stall, the world's smallest restaurant. Photograph: Ben Quinton